In Every Breath


In every breath
a face opens up

of such purity
whose radiance is

cornfields at their peak
moment of harvest

God’s Face which is
no face we associate with


coming over the hill at us
wherever and whenever

we happen to be
and overwhelmingly familiar

when we’re
original emptiness

a worthy state for

contemplating God’s works
inside and outside us

as has often been

But truly
the pigeon is a perfect

work of God

the fly a famous
confabulation that

we can’t duplicate no
matter how hard

we try

And then there’s air
itself and

churning seas

entering rainbow land and
coming out the other side

as fresh as a Spring shower

and the sparkle of the
freshly sprinkled

God’s Face

Whose navigational pull
ordains the

saintly in us
a ladder of alchemical

gold with many rungs
that become one when

our heart’s breaths
extend over canyons and

thoughts themselves

ablaze with the
possibility of


Each gnat a
prince among gnats

Each bird the hoopoe of

Each blink of our
eyes the man of Allah

who could transport
Bilqis’ throne in a

then bring it

home again

5/3/15 (from White Noise in This World Silver in the Next)

Categories: Poems